'Lover' says goodbye to quality, hello to fluff

There isn't too much new ground to cover in cinema these days, and "Goodbye, Lover" doesn't make any attempt to forge a path through the underbrush. It's fluff, little more than a overlong pile of sexual intrigue and a smarter-than-thou attitude towards its limited audience. But for all its complications in the service of complications, it's really not so bad if you enjoy a bunch of bloodless bloodletters letting each other's blood.

Patricia "I don't have a bigger career because I pick films like this" Arquette stars as Sandra Dunmore, a double-crossing, money-hungry sex fiend who attempts to fill the deliciously malevolent shoes of Linda Fiorentino in 1994's "The Last Seduction." Key word: attempts. Fiorentino's performance and character are virtually unassailable, so why bother trying? Arquette does an admirable job with what she's got (and, boy, does she got), but handcuffs and fishnets can only take you so far.

Courtesy of Regency Enterprises Dermot Mulroney and Patricia Arquette potray husband and wife in "Goodbye, Lover."

Sandra, a real estate agent, is married to Jake (Dermot Mulroney), an alcoholic. Jake's brother is Ben (Don Johnson), the good sheep who, for example, plays the organ at church. Sandra is having an affair with Ben, getting off on the danger involved with rendezvousing at the houses she sells or beneath the church organ - or is she? Jake is oblivious - or is he? And then there's Peggy Blane, the apparent "good girl" at Jake and Ben's public relations firm (they seem to have only one client, a Senator Lassetter, who has a basketful of problems in the form of being caught with his hand up the wrong transvestite's skirt), who's in love with Ben.

Or is she?

That's where we're watching from at the beginning of "Goodbye, Lover," but it's about 10 football field lengths away from where we end up. Characters end up in bed with enemies that they don't even know are enemies to begin with. Director Roland Joffé ("The Killing Fields" and the Demi Moore demi-masterpiece "The Scarlet Letter") lets twist after twist unfold with all the subtlety of eau de chopped liver. He also throws in a bunch of subplots (the senator, a serial killer known as "The Doctor" - Ooh! Scary! - and, of course, the age-old conflict between the Mormon detective and the cynical detective) that never really go anywhere but straight to the toilet. Ellen De Generes arrives on the scene to dispense her trademark wit at her absurdly naïve partner's expense as the two investigate a series of "accidental" deaths.

The biggest twist of all, though, is the small appearance of Vincent "We're spanning time" Gallo as the kind of man who gets things done for the right price. Joffé would have done well to make Gallo a bigger part of the cast, but at least he brightens otherwise dingily overwrought scenes and plot developments.

"Goodbye, Lover" plays its game of "Who's the patsy now?" out for what feels like ages but is actually less than two hours. It's kind of fun to watch these absolutely unappealing people screw each other - literally and figuratively - but by the 76th plot twist, it starts to wear a little thin. If only the film had found a way to humanize its game-players its push-me-pull-you scheming might have meant a little more. As it is, the plot is too convoluted by half for its scope. There's a labyrinth that's been constructed, but nobody is around to play in it beyond a few inexpert fumblings. We don't know any of these people. And we don't want to. Goodbye, lovers.

04-19-99